


Interlude

by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, M/M, Musical Kageyama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 07:30:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6146172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/Karasuno%20Volleygays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yamaguchi Tadashi can't help falling for his piano-playing neighbor, Kageyama Tobio, but when life happens and threatens to relocate him to another city, he has to decide which direction he wants his future to run.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yamagusheep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yamagusheep/gifts).



> Hi, Rin! I knew I wanted to do YamaYama from the moment I got the prompt. I knocked around some ideas for the prompts you gave, but nothing was coming to me so I just...did the wing-it thing and hope you enjoy the story. I was going to post it as a gift, but it won't let me. >.>

It’s nearly midnight when Tadashi hears it again.

Not the sound of whatever projectile he hears thump against the wall in Tsukki’s room (he _does_ have to get up at six in the morning, after all), nor Tsukki’s audible grumbling at the interruption of his beauty sleep.

No, it’s the _music_.

The soft strains of piano music bleed through the apartment’s paper-thin walls, filling their unit (and probably every other one within fifty meters) with muted but still perfectly clear renditions of the most embarrassing love songs Tadashi has ever heard. And those are just the ones he recognizes.

Ignoring the grumpy protests in the room next to his, Tadashi curls himself into his blanket, a bittersweet smile on his face as he drifts off to the sound of someone else’s happiness in his ears.

 

* * *

 

It’s now Night Six of the Great Piano Debacle, and Tsukki has had enough of their new neighbor. As far as Tadashi knows, the person in the next unit over moved in less than two weeks ago, and if Tsukki’s sanity (and, in relation, Tadashi’s) is going to last, something has to be done.

At nearly one in the morning, Tadashi sighs and pads over to the next door over and softly knocks on the door.

Tadashi blinks, almost stepping backwards when he sees the person who opens the door. Tousled, jet black hair, deep blue eyes, athletic build, and the absolutely most murderous resting bitchface he’s ever seen.

“Can I help you?” his neighbor asks, the only change in expression a slight quirk of a brow.

Gulping, Tadashi’s jaw dribbles downward as he stares. It’s only when his scary-yet-hot neighbor’s head tilts to the side in question that Tadashi realizes he’s been spoken to.

“Oh!” Dropping into a bow to hide his burning cheeks, Tadashi says far too loudly for the hour, “I’m your neighbor to the right, Yamaguchi Tadashi.”

“Right.” His neighbor is blinking and scratching his temple with a twisted frown when Tadashi finally looks up. “Kageyama. It’s late.”

Tadashi wants to scoff at the curtness, but he thinks better of it in favor of getting to the point. He believes Kageyama will appreciate this if nothing else about their disastrous visit. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. My roommate can’t sleep with the piano going all night. I don’t mind it, but . . . Tsukki is probably an inch away from calling the super, so —” He trails off with a pinched smile. “So, yeah. That.”

“Oh.” Kageyama yawns and absently scratches his belly. “I’ll stop. Sorry to bother you.”

Holding up his hands, Tadashi shakes his head. “Oh, you’re not really bothering _me._ I love hearing you play.” Face reddening, he looks anywhere but at Kageyama. “My roommate . . .”

Kageyama grunts in reply before asking, “Anything else, Yamaguchi-san?”

“No.” Something makes Tadashi pause before he blurts, “Wait, yes!” When Kageyama raises a brow, he asks, “Why do you only play sad love songs?”

It is far too satisfying for Tadashi to watch Kageyama’s face burn hot. After a half-dozen false starts, his blushing neighbor finally grumbles, “They’re pretty.”

Tadashi has to fight off a grin. “Good night, Kageyama-kun. I look forward to your music tomorrow. Just at more of a hospitable hour.”

There is only a trace of a nod before the door is all but slammed in Tadashi’s face, but he can’t even call his first run-in with Kageyama a failure. Not at all.

 

* * *

 

The next day, the music starts again at noon and barely stops for the next ten hours. And when it does start, Tadashi finds himself sitting against the wall where the sound soaks through the clearest and strongest and just _listens._

It’s how he realizes that Kageyama doesn’t just play, he _plays_. While Tadashi never survived past six months’ worth of piano lessons, he knows enough to recognize the hallmarks of a good musician. Dynamics, fluid use of tempo, and just the right amount of pedal to lift the softer parts.

More than once, Tadashi wonders how someone as taciturn as Kageyama can manage the amount of soul it takes to play like this, to make Tadashi feel the words even though no one is singing them.

After two days of wondering, Tadashi finds himself at Kageyama’s door to ask just that.

When Kageyama answers the door this time, he’s wearing nothing but a bathrobe, his hair sticking every direction but down with dark, weary rings of purple marring his eyes.

“I —” Tadashi gulps at the sight of Kageyama’s dishevelment. “Are you okay?”

Kageyama shrugs. “Can’t sleep. ‘S why I play.”

Tadashi frowns as he once again takes in Kageyama’s rumpled state. “Do you have insomnia? Maybe bad dreams?” Reeling back a few years to the memory of the rabid haze of college, Tadashi shudders before adding, “Too much coffee?”

“Just can’t.” Kageyama looks at his feet before he mumbles, “You want some coffee?”

Highly suspicious that he’s just been invited in, Tadashi’s eyes widen as he nods. “Sure.”

The inside of Kageyama’s apartment smells like coffee and sandalwood, courtesy of the incense burning on a small table next to a gleaming black grand piano. Tadashi gapes. “H-how did you even get that up the stairs?”

“I didn’t,” Kageyama offers as he holds out a steaming mug of coffee. “I took it apart and put it back together.”

Having poked his head into the various parts of a piano to know that it has a lot of them, Tadashi nearly drops his cup in surprise. “That must have taken weeks!”

“Eleven days,” Kageyama says before holding out a basket of mini-creamers and sugar packets. “It’s still not quite in tune, but it gets closer every day.”

Dumping sugar and hazelnut creamer into his coffee, Tadashi hums at the pleasant flagrance. “So, is that what you do? Tune pianos?”

Kageyama frowns at him. “No. I don’t do anything.”

“Huh?” Tadashi looks around the room, taking in the tidiness and the relative quality of the furniture before fixating once again on the definitely expensive piano. “Wish I could have a piano like that and not have to save up a dozen paychecks for it.”

Shaking his head, Kageyama explains. “These are my grandmother’s things. She lives in Tokyo, but the summers are too hot. She just doesn’t want to stay with my parents because she thinks my dad is an idiot.”

“Oh,” Tadashi says, not sure what else to contribute other than a mild case of jealousy. There aren’t many pipe dreams better than being a full-time house-sitter for a relative rich enough to keep up a place in Tokyo _and_ another apartment on the side. But even that kind of financial haven would tax the laziest soul after a while, and he says as much. “Aren’t you bored?”

Sighing, Kageyama lowers his head. “All the time.” His voice breaks around the words. “I just don’t know what to _do_.”

Tadashi hums in thought. “You could write music. Find yourself a singer and play nightclubs. Teach people how to play. Or just find a regular job and use playing as your reward for not stabbing your boss in the throat for one more day.”

A garbled sound comes from Kageyama, and it takes Tadashi a moment to realize that the other man is actually laughing. “Hey, it’s a real struggle! Tsukki says that his boss is 90 IQ points in a 120 point jar.”

Kageyama blinks in bafflement, but Tadashi is neither bothered nor surprised. He chalks it up as one of the more charming aspects of Kageyama’s particular brand of awkwardness  and smiles. “Well, if you’re ever bored, let me know.

“You’re all right, Kageyama-kun.”

The smile this elicits is something Tadashi will come to know as a rare treasure, indeed.

 

* * *

"Play that one again," Tadashi says as he lies on the floor next to Kageyama's piano. "I love that song."

Without a word, Kageyama complies, and the soft, warm strains of a fifteen year old song capture Tadashi's attention like it is new again. However, this time, there is an extra layer of melody in place of the lyrics, filling the room with pure musical atmosphere.

It isn't until the song ends that Tadashi realizes he hasn't truly breathed in almost seven minutes, his body arrested by the sheer beauty of the music. "Wow," he wheezes. "If I never hear another song but that one for the rest of my life, I would totally be okay."

Kageyama blushes as he gently closes the lid on the piano. "It's an easy song to play."

Tadashi sits up and shrugs. "Nothing is just that easy. How many years did you have to practice to be able to play something after just hearing it? Probably a lot, and to play it with so much feeling . . . that isn't easy at all."

"That had to be embarrassing to say out loud," Kageyama says gruffly.

"Yeah," Tadashi admits. "A little. But I really mean it. I love to hear you play because you just sound like you were born to do it. I have to work my ass off just to be average at everything."

Kageyama scowls at him. "Don't talk like that."

"Yes, Mother," Tadashi chimes, fighting off a smile. He rolls over on his side and watches Kageyama pull a stack of music books off of the small shelf next to the piano, and then something hits him that makes him abruptly sit up. "Um, Kageyama?"

Glancing over at his guest, Kageyama tilts his head to the side.

"Do you want to go out for ice cream?" When Kageyama's eyes brighten immediately the suggestion, Tadashi feels slightly better about asking. After all, the two of them have never even left the building together. "There's a really good place a couple of streets over. Do you know it?"

"No."

Kageyama is already standing as he replies, jamming his arms into his jacket and checking his trousers for visible stains. Tadashi knows the routine well from his own travails with laundry and laziness. Slowly, Tadashi peels himself off the floor and trots over to the genkan to slip into the boat shoes Kageyama nudges in his direction.

The walk is a short one, due to Kageyama's blistering pace. Tadashi can't tell if his new friend is really in the mood for ice cream or if he always stalks around like a man on a mission. However, once they get their treats, they settle on the bench outside the shop, shoulders tightly pressed together as they eat faster than advisable.

Kageyama gobbles his far more quickly than Tadashi, nursing the empty cup until they're both finished. It's then that Tadashi realizes that it's much colder than he had anticipated it would be, with a brisk puff of wind sending a shiver over his woefully overexposed arms.

Tadashi nearly jumps when Kageyama's sweater-clad arm tucks around Tadashi's shoulder and draws them even closer together. The only thing warmer than the heat leeching into Tadashi's side are his cheeks as he squeaks, "Th-thanks."

Something giddy bubbles in Tadashi's belly as he processes this unfamiliar proximity to another person. The only person who ever really hugs him is his mother, who lives on the farthest edge of the city away from him. And Tsukki certainly isn't a touchy-feely kind of guy. But his neighbor and newest friend of about two weeks is sharing his warmth for all to see without a care for who is watching.

And Tadashi is surprised at himself for how much he doesn't mind it at all.

 

* * *

 

Tsukki barely looks up from where he’s sprawled out on the couch, glasses askew as the book he’s been trying to finish for a month is squashed open on his chest forgotten, when Tadashi calls, “Going to Kageyama’s!”

“Goody.” Yawning heavily, Tsukki adds, “Make sure he pipes down before 21:00 tonight. I have to get up early.”

“Already taken care of,” Tadashi says as he tucks his feet into his ill-used nice-but-not-quite-dress-up loafers. “We’re going out anyway.”

This cracks Tsukki’s disinterested malaise. “You’re going out with _him_? Didn’t even know he was your type?” Grumbling just loud enough that Tadashi has to strain to hear, he adds, “Didn’t know the guy had a type that doesn’t live under a bridge.”

Tadashi’s fists clench as he glares across the room, using the knowledge that he’d just spent twenty minutes beating his hair into submission and doesn’t want to mess it up to squelch the urge to stomp across the room and shake his best friend. “You don’t even know him. You talked to him _once_ and scared him away. He’ll probably never come over here again willingly if you’re home because of how rude you were!”

With a harrumph, Tsukki picks up his book and turns a page. “I just told him he’d be able to play more songs if he bothered with more than just Japanese music. He plays that same damn song five times a day.” Snapping the book shut, done with the pretense of even trying to read it, Tsukki tosses it on the floor. “It makes me want to find Teru-san and stab him in the neck.”

Swallowing his reflexive instinct to defend his favorite band to the death, Tadashi instead sighs and slumps against the door. “Why are you like this about him? He’s a good guy. A little weird, but he’s really kind of . . .” Smiling to himself, Tadashi finishes with, “He’s nice.”

“Nice?” Tsukki pads over to the fridge and pours himself a glass of juice. “The other day, I heard him yelling ‘dumbass’ over and over into the phone. He needs to learn some new words.”

Tadashi huffs and finishes putting on his shoes. “That’s just Hinata-kun. They were best friends in high school.”

“We were best friends in high school, yet neither of us have a caveman vocabulary.”

Refusing to engage in this neverending argument again, Tadashi tears open the door and nearly runs face-first into Kageyama. "Oh!"

Kageyama looks like he just swallowed a hopeful of lemons, which in itself isn't an oddity, but the timing gives Tadashi the sinking feeling that his and Tsukki's conversation had an audience. "I'm ready when you are," he offers feebly.

With a curt nod, Kageyama sidesteps and gestures for Tadashi to lead the way. The air between them is stagnant with silence, only relenting when Tadashi stops in his tracks two blocks away and grabs Kageyama's hand.

"I'm sorry Tsukki is like that." When Kageyama stops and goes Tadashi a questioning look, he continues. "We've been friends forever and he just wants what's best for me. He just doesn't remember sometimes that I would know what that is better than him."

Arms wrapped like a vice around his middle, Kageyama stares intently at his feet. "I'm not a very good friend, am I?"

Tadashi jolts to attention. "What? Who said that?" He frantically scours his brain, desperate to identify what he had said to plant that notion into Kageyama's head. "I'd I did something to make you feel that way, please tell me because it isn't true."

"Isn't it?" Kageyama wheels around, his shoulders stiff enough to shatter. Tadashi's chest clenches tightly around his heart, compelling him to reach out and wrap a hand around Kageyama's trembling wrist.

An urge envelops Tadashi, and without another thought, he indulges it. Arms tight around Kageyama's middle, Tadashi squashes the two of them together hard enough to knock the wind out of both of them. At first, Kageyama is rigid in Tadashi's grasp, but slowly, they melt into each other until even Kageyama holds on for all he's worth. It's a long time before either of them let go, and Tadashi has a lingering suspicion that nobody does this for Kageyama. Not nearly as much as he appears to need it.

But Tadashi will have none of that. As they head towards the train station for their ride to the concert, he reaches over and tangles his fingers with Kageyama's, his heart stuttering when he sees the small smile creeping around the corner of Kageyama's mouth.

They're both breathless when they stumble into the train after the show, their awe at the performance still ripe and alive. "So cool," Kageyama repeats softly as they board the train. Tadashi agrees but is confined to excited trembling, voice not willing to cooperate.

At their usual stop, Tadashi turns to Kageyama and says, "I need food or I'm pretty sure I'm going to die."

"What do you want?" Kageyama cranes his neck to look around the area. "There's Chinese, Thai, KFC, and a yakitori place that I can see."

"KFC!" Tadashi's stomach rumbles in anticipation. "I love their potato wedges."

Kageyama nods and tugs Tadashi in the direction of the glowing neon sign about a block away. The chill of the November air begins to work its way into their skin as the sweat and adrenalin from the concert wears down. By the time the restaurant is a stone's throw away, they are all but running to make it to the doors.

Inside, the smell of fried chicken assaults their senses, and Tadashi knows they made the right choice. Soon, they're ensconced in a booth with a tray heaped with enough fried food to kill a family of six and systematically demolish the whole thing.

Reeling with full bellies and sodium overload, Tadashi and Kageyama stumble back out into the brisk air. “I think I’m gonna puke,” Tadashi wheezes as they slowly amble back towards their apartment building. “That last order of popcorn chicken was probably too much.”

Kageyama groans in reply as his fingers lurch out into the space between them and brush against Tadashi’s. Managing to bottle his start of surprise, Tadashi takes the proffered hand in his and lets a crooked smile spread across his face.

“I, um, really had a good time,” Tadashi says, giving Kageyama’s hand a squeeze. “Thank you for getting the tickets and for taking me to the concert and —”

“Yamaguchi,” Kageyama says quietly, stopping Tadashi’s babble mid-stream. “You’re welcome.”

The rest of the walk passes in comfortable silence, with neither of them speaking until they stop outside Tadashi’s door. Kageyama looks at their joined hands, and a look that hearkens suspiciously with regret passes over his features as he lets go.

“Happy birthday, Tadashi,” he says before his cheeks turn bright red and he all but runs to his own door.

 Tadashi doesn’t even bother to hide his dopey smile as he slumps into his apartment and leans heavily against the door.

“You look happy,” Tsukki mumbles from his stack of textbooks. Modern Mechanical Engineering seems to be the order of the night, Tadashi muses as he watches Tsukki’s fingertips fiddle with the stems of his glasses, one of his regular habits when buried in his self-admitted best-yet-worst subject.

Tadashi hums as he toes off his shoes. “Did you try turning it upside-down?” he asks. Tsukki’s huffed reply of ‘ridiculous’ bounces right off of Tadashi as he slides under the kotatsu and pretends not to notice Tsukki doing as he had suggested. Or the resulting scribbling of success in his notebook.

It’s difficult to envy Tsukki, who is in his final year of obtaining his mechanical engineering doctorate. Or his diet of coffee and frozen dinners. However, he doesn’t doubt for a moment that his best friend will go on to do incredible things.

“You should tell him at some point, you know,” Tsukki blurts. Tadashi’s mouth droops open in confusion as he gawks at his friend. Tsukki scoffs and buries his face in his book once again. “Kageyama-kun doesn’t seem particularly bright, so he probably won’t figure out you like him unless you say something.”

All Tadashi can manage is a squeak of protest as his brain rushes to process this absurd accusation. He does _not_ like Kageyama. Not like that, anyway. They’re friends who enjoy similar tastes in music, nothing more. And maybe Tadashi looks forward to spending time with Kageyama more than anything else currently in his life, but that doesn’t mean —

“And now you’re over-thinking things.” Tsukki snaps his book shut and lolls back on the couch, his long legs brushing against Tadashi’s under the kotatsu. “Just because _I_ happen to think he’s an imbecile doesn’t mean you can’t like him, Tadashi. You’re happier with him around, so who cares if he’s an idiot?”

Tadashi's too-full belly begins to roil with a cocktail of annoyance and something he doesn't care to identify as he stomps across the room the loom over Tsukki. "He's not stupid, Tsukki. You just don't know him. He's shy, not defective."

Tsukki quirks a sardonic brow. "You're unusually adamant about this. You seriously have a thing for this guy." A greasy smile twists his mouth. "You're in deep, Yamaguchi."

"Am not," Tadashi grumbles as he heads to his room, peeling off clothing as he goes and leaving them in a rumpled trail behind him. He knows it irritates Tsukki and deems it an adequate measure to display his displeasure without saying something he really doesn't mean.

In his room, Tadashi flops onto his futon, only to feel something jab into the flesh of his back. His search for the offending object turns up a neatly wrapped package in plain green paper. A smile tugs at the corner of Tadashi's mouth as he opens it. His eyes light up as he pulls a snow globe out of its box, shaking it so the snowy grains swirl around a gleaming black grand piano. On the bottom, he winds up the brass key, his throat catching as the chorus of his favorite song trickles out.

He'll apologize to Tsukki in the morning. Probably. But until then, he plays and plays the music box until he falls asleep with his fingers lovingly wrapped around the globe.

 

* * *

 

Tadashi's eyes are heavy as he trudges into work, still in a haze from his late night out with Kageyama. He finds his cubicle more out of instinct than anything as he chugs his coffee on the way. By the time he sits, his cup is empty and he groans as he makes his way back to the staff room for a refill of the company-issued swill.

The caffeine is finally starting to set in when he finds his desk again, complete with a post-it on his computer monitor.  _Meeting with Irihata-san at ten_ , it says, in regimented handwriting that can only belong to Yukimura Ayume, Irihata's secretary.

Irihata is a floor supervisor for Yamamoto International, which deals in international trade, and also Tadashi’s supervisor. Tadashi is a middling accounting minion of his own volition, happy with his moderate salary and benefits packet and low level of responsibility. And not being noticed. Being called to Irihata’s office is not going unnoticed, and a cool tremor of nervous energy ripples through his formerly sleep-logged body.

Nervous fingers stumble over keys as Tadashi tries to keep busy until his meeting, but very little gets done by the time he is due to head to the office on the far end of the floor. As he approaches at a safe 9:57, Yukimura gives him a plastic smile and says, “Go right on in, Yamaguchi-kun.”

Tadashi edges open the door and bows to the diminutive man behind the desk. “Good morning, Irihata-san.”

“And to you, Yamaguchi.” Irihata gestures to the chair pulled out opposite his. “Please, have a seat.”

Knees shaking, Tadashi does as he’s told, his hands wringing the life out of the chair arms. “Have I done s-something wrong?”

Irihata chuckles, yet Tadashi can’t find humor in his tone. “No, Yamaguchi-kun. Quite the opposite, I’m afraid.”

Tadashi bolts upright in his chair. “Sir?”

“I like to keep an eye on the ranks. See who is pulling their weight, who isn’t, and who is destined for bigger, better things.” Irihata steeples his fingers and leans on his elbows. “And I have seen a lot of good things from you.”

Tadashi’s eyes widen. “You have?”

Irihata nods. “Of course. Your numbers are consistently high, you show up to work on time and never miss, and there are precisely zero ridiculous rumors floating around about your out-of-work activities.

“In other words, you’re the perfect employee, Yamaguchi-kun.”

Jaw hanging open, Tadashi gapes at Irihata until he manages to squeak, “Me?”

“Yes, you.” Irihata slides a stapled packet of papers across his desk. “And this is an offer I’d like you to consider.”

Taking the packet with shaking hands, Tadashi mulls over the first few paragraphs long enough for his head to jerk up. “Tokyo?”

“To the _main office_ in Tokyo,” Irihata corrects. “We will, of course, pay for all moving expenses and procure you adequate lodging should you wish to accept the offer and the exceptional increase in salary it brings with it.”

Tadashi skims further into the document and nearly melts out of his chair when he finds the raise Irihata has referenced. “That much?

Irihata hums. “That much. Of course, it will be more responsibility and more difficult work, but judging by your current skillset and how easily you adapt to new tasks, I don’t anticipate it being a problem.”

Reeling from the utter weight of this information, Tadashi stares unseeing at the page, trying to process what he is supposed to say. It takes a full minute of tense silence before he is able to say, “How long do I have to decide?”

“Next Friday at the latest. Talk to your family and think it over. It’s a big step. A step up, but a big step up in your career prospects. Think about what you want and where you want to go, and with what you have to offer, this company can take you there.”

With that, Tadashi is dismissed back to his desk to robotically complete his work for the day, almost oblivious to what he is producing in favor of lingering over the job offer and a lot more coffee. He can’t even remember what he eats for lunch as his mind bubbles over with the sheer amount of possibility that now exists in his life that wasn’t there a few hours before.

Tadashi returns home in a daze and almost doesn’t hear the knock at the door. Vaulting to his feet, he yanks the door open and heaves a sigh of relief when he sees Kageyama. “Oh, come in!” he says in a too-high voice.

Kageyama regards him with a pinched expression but doesn’t comment further as he lists over to the kotatsu. Tadashi’s snow globe sits in the middle of the tabletop, and Kageyama picks it up and inspects it. He turns the key and jolts when it starts playing. “Where did you get this?”

“Tsukki got it,” Tadashi answers, setting out a mug of tea for himself and a glass of milk for Kageyama. “He may not seem like it, but he always seems to know the right thing to get for gifts. But I think this is probably going to be my favorite.” He glides a finger over the smooth glass of the globe with a wide smile. “I think this entire birthday year will be the best.”

With a sigh, Tadashi slumps back and admits, “And there probably won’t be many more this good. Not with things going the way they are.”

At Kageyama’s surprised look, Tadashi sighs as he cradles his tea. “My boss called me into his office this morning. They want me to move to the main branch in Tokyo.”

Tadashi doesn’t miss how quickly Kageyama puts the globe back on the table and shrinks away. “You’re leaving?” His voice is small and wobbly, and the sound needles at Tadashi.

"Well . . ." Tadashi worries his bottom lip as he adverts his eyes from Kageyama's obvious hurt. "I have until next Friday to decide, so it's not set in stone. I have a lot of things to think about. If my parents are okay with me living that far away alone. If Tsukki can make the rent for this place on his own. If I even  _want_  to live in a place that big. A lot of stuff." He keeps the litany of other things that would compel him to stay bottled up in his throat. "But if I have a reason to stay, I wouldn't hesitate to turn down the offer."

When Kageyama's face lights up at this, Tadashi's belly lurches.

"But I don't want to think about that right now." Finishing off his now-cold tea, Tadashi collects their empty cups and says with a very broad, very forced smile, "Anything you want for dinner? We've got the stuff to do stir fry or curry."

They both say, "Curry," with the answer obvious to them both. Kageyama follows Tadashi to the kitchen and they work side by side to fix their meal. The potatoes and onions are Kageyama's territory, with his dexterous knife skills, and the pork and sauce mix to Tadashi's watchful eye.

There is no more talk of Tokyo while they eat, much to Tadashi's relief as he sets aside a plate of leftovers for Tsukki. Out of habit, they drift over to Kageyama's place for their nearly daily ritual of listening to Kageyama play. However, the moment the piano kicks into action, Tadashi hears a litany of mistakes foreign to Kageyama's level of talent, even with something he's never played. After three songs' worth of this, Tadashi places a tentative hand on Kageyama's shoulder.

Kageyama jerks away and wraps his arms around his torso, chin resolutely buried in his chest. Tadashi doesn't have to wonder all that much to figure out the source of Kageyama's distress. "Do you want me to leave?" He knows the question is loaded but asks it anyway.

Shaking his head violently, Kageyama growls, "No."

"Do you just want to sit here for a while?"

When he meets Kageyama's hopeful gaze, Tadashi settles on the piano bench next to Kageyama and latches onto an arm as he rests his head on Kageyama's shoulder.

In a flash, the number of things Tadashi needs to consider for his decision doubles.

 

* * *

 

Tsukki barely glances at Tadashi from over his Archaeology textbook. “So, are you going to take it?”

Tadashi sighs heavily and flops down on the couch, groaning into his hands. “I don’t know. I like my job the way it is, and I get to stay here with you. My family is here, my friends are here, my —” The word drops off of Tadashi’s tongue before it can squirm out. He doesn’t know what it would be anyway, but Tsukki’s twitch of a smile tells him that his friend has a pretty good idea.

“So that’s how it is.” Tsukki closes his book, marking his place with his notes, and pushes his glasses up his nose. “If you’re waiting for some grand gesture from that idiot, you’re not going to get one. He’s not going to make this decision for you, and neither am I. You need to think about what you want out of life and which avenue will get you there. Decide accordingly, and everyone else will adjust. Including me.”

Having heard more words at once from Tsukki than he’s been used to in a long time, Tadashi blinks at Tsukki as he calmly reopens his book. The only sign that the news has affected him at all is the rapid fidget of his fingers as they drum on the crest of the pages. Tadashi knows Tsukki will never say anything, but knowing his best friend of so many years would miss him if he left means more than just about anything.

“I’m going to think it through thoroughly,” Tadashi says. As he shoots a glance at the damningly silent wall between theirs and Kageyama’s units, he murmurs, “All of it.”

Without another word, he exits the apartment and goes over to knock on Kageyama’s door. The door tears open, revealing its sweating resident whose eyes widen when he sees Tadashi. “Y-yamaguchi!” He steps aside and lets Tadashi slide past him.

The apartment looks painfully clean. Every surface sparkles, every item in place. Usually, Tadashi can spot at least two dead takeaway cartons and a sprinkling of empty water bottles. A shirt thrown over the back of the couch. However, the only sign of life is a workout mat in the middle of the floor, smeared with sweat to match the rest of Kageyama.

Turning to Kageyama, Tadashi asks, “Are you okay?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Kageyama grumbles as he plops down on the mat. Tadashi’s jaw drops when Kageyama braces himself in a push-up position, even craning one arm behind his back, and resumes what he had likely been doing before the interruption. “Nothing wrong at all,” he pants between reps.

In the time they’ve known each other, Tadashi can’t say that he’s remained ignorant of Kageyama’s physique. As a former athlete, Kageyama’s limbs are brimming with coiled power. However, it doesn’t hit Tadashi until his eyes can’t tear away from a drizzle of sweat running down one of Kageyama’s biceps that he has probably strewn far beyond the threshold of casually noticing it.

Throat dry, Tadashi squeaks, “Can we talk?”

Kageyama doesn’t pause has he grunts, “We are talking.”

“That’s not what I mean!”

Tadashi jumps at his own vehemence, only matched by Kageyama’s graceless sprawl at the uncharacteristic volume of Tadashi’s voice. Their shocked gazes meet, not wavering even as Kageyama peels himself off of the mat and rises to his feet.

“I . . .” Tadashi ducks his head away, no longer able to speak and look Kageyama in the eye. “I’m not sure I want to go, but I have to think about it. Okay?”

Kageyama uses the collar of his tee to sponge away the sweat from his face before sighing and looking at his shoes. “I . . . okay.”

They both sit on the couch, an unusual amount of distance between them, and stare at the turned-off television for some time before Kageyama asks, “So, would you make more money?”

“Yeah,” Tadashi replies, eyes still fixed on the shining black trim of the tv, in which he can see Kageyama’s reflection. Slouched, head down, and far too quiet. “But it’ll be in Tokyo, so the higher cost of living won’t really change the way I live much. Plus, the crime rate is higher. The air sucks there. Longer commutes. Longer hours, too, probably.”

He almost _feels_ Kageyama shake his head. “But you’ll do important work and be recognized for it. You deserve to be noticed.”

Tadashi blinks as he looks over at Kageyama, whose arms are resting on his thighs as his head hangs between his knees. However, he doesn’t miss the faint tinge of red on his cheeks, nor the nervous fidget of his fingers. “Maybe that’s not how I want to be noticed. Work is just to pay the bills, but it isn’t the be-all-end-all of existence. There are some things that matter more.”

Sliding off the couch, Tadashi drops to his knees and puts his hands over Kageyama’s and squeezes. “My friends are here. My life is here. I’m not unhappy with any of it, and that deserves to be recognized, too.”

“Is that enough for you?” Kageyama whispers. “To stay in one place while people who aren’t as good as you rise to the top and leave you behind?”

 _And there it is_ , Tadashi thinks as he regards Kageyama, feeling fists ball under his palms. He can’t pretend to know what happened in Kageyama’s life to make him this afraid of failure, this conditioned against inferiority, but this conversation is no longer just about Tadashi, he’s sure of it.

Unfurling Kageyama’s fingers, Tadashi threads them with his own and says, “I’m not competing with anyone, so I can’t lose a game I’m not even playing.”

Kageyama slowly raises his gaze, the tension oozing out of his body. Tadashi jolts when a hand slowly drags up the length of his arm, and his chest flutters once that hand slips up to cup his cheek.

Without a word, Kageyama leans forward and softly presses his mouth to Tadashi’s. Eyes flying open in surprise, Tadashi watches as Kageyama leans back, lids still closed, with the softest hint of a smile on his face as he exudes happiness.

“Wow,” Tadashi gasps, breath far more difficult to come by than he thinks it should be.

Tadashi’s heart _hurts_ with the force of how much he finally understands Kageyama’s recent mannerisms. And how much he has undervalued how important Kageyama has become in his routine. The idea of leaving Kageyama behind makes something bitter stick in his craw.

However, for now, he doesn’t want to think about leaving or Tokyo or anything but reaching out and claiming another kiss, groaning when Kageyama’s hands delve into his hair and pull them even closer together.

It’s nearly an hour before Tadashi reluctantly decides that it’s time to go back to his own apartment, but as he lies in bed, sleep doesn’t come. Instead, all his traitorous brain can do is replay the heady feeling of Kageyama’s unskilled lips moving against his own and how much he loves everything about the kisses they shared.

“Ah, crap.” Tadashi groans as he rolls over and sees that it’s past midnight. “I like him, don’t I?”

Through the wall between their rooms, he hears Tsukki scoff. “Told you.”

He has a week to decide, and he’s sure he’s going to use all of it.

 

* * *

 

The week Irihata had given Tadashi to make up his mind comes and goes in a startlingly quick fashion, but it isn’t until the eleventh hour that Tadashi decides what he wants to do, and he leaves his meeting with Irihata feeling like the correct choice has been made for everyone.

He couldn’t have done it without the help of his family and friends, and he has no regrets as two months later, he boards a bullet train to Tokyo, a few nights’ worth of necessities on hand and the rest on their way via moving truck.

The final deciding factor, however, had been Kageyama. “But I’ll miss you too much,” Tadashi had said to him the night before his decision deadline. “Then I’ll go with you,” was the response, and Tadashi had needed to sit down for a few minutes to process it.

After Tadashi relented, the rest had fallen in place.

Beside him, Kageyama scowls at his phone as he tries to clear the fifth level of Flappy Bird for the hundredth time without success, the dismal sound of cartoon bird death irritating the woman in the seat across the aisle. Much to Kageyama’s obliviousness, which just makes Tadashi smile.

“Want a bud?” Tadashi says after the bird bites it yet again, offering half of his headphones to his bored and increasingly disgruntled boyfriend.

Kageyama takes the offered respite from his gaming failure and switches apps, instead favoring one Tadashi had found a few weeks before that involves hitting music notes sliding across the screen. Kageyama is _good_ at this one.

When they arrive at Tokyo, they’re greeted by Kageyama’s grandmother, a diminutive yet severe looking woman who is unmistakably prominent in her grandson’s DNA.

Bowing, Tadashi says, “Kageyama-san, thank you for having us. Tsukki will take good care of your place in Sendai, and we’ll take care of your place here.”

The old woman smiles in a strikingly similar way to Kageyama and pats Tadashi’s cheek. “No doubt. I’m just happy Tobio-chan is finally happy.”

Kageyama blushes and looks away. “So embarrassing.”

Tadashi chuckles and elbows Kageyama’s side. “So grumpy.”

They head to Kageyama-san’s car hand in hand, ready for the start of a brand new adventure. One they’ll approach together.


End file.
